To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil Must give us pause. Act 3 Scene 1

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• Madness in great ones must not unwatched go. Act III, scene i, line 185
• O, from this time forth My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth! Act IV, scene iv
• Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; and thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought And enterprises of great pitch and moment With this reagard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action. Act III, scene i, lines 84-89
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